


Of sweat and rust

by keikoHPfan



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keikoHPfan/pseuds/keikoHPfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern post-apocalyptic AU. Ori is travelling through a ravaged country, hoping to reach a rumored safe-haven, when he meets three other travellers. Will they manage to get past their differences to reach their goal? Will be slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of ash and dust

**Author's Note:**

> Another repost from FF, but it's a WIP. I had the idea while listening to 'Radioactive' by Imagine Dragons in my car, hence the title.
> 
> I hope you'll like it, let me know?

Ori has always thought that it would be something grand and earth shattering. Like a zombie virus or an alien invasion, or something equally spectacular. Something that would make sense, in a way. In the end, the world as they knew it collapsed with the end of the petrol reserves. Their fragile, fragile economy had crumbled like a sand castle and left them with civil wars and riots. Who would have thought?

Ten years later, the United States don't really exist anymore and western civilization is all but a bittersweet memory. Here, at least. Ori has no idea how the rest of the world is doing. There are rumors that Canada has remained fairly stable and managed to maintain peace throughout the darkest years. That the country has reorganized itself and that everyone has a roof over their head and food in their bellies. It sounds a bit too good for Ori's tastes, but, well, what other choice does he have? He has no family left – his older brother Dori died last year from a bad cold and Nori never came back from his trip to Mexico, back in the early years when everyone still thought there was hope for America. Their old family home is falling apart and Ori isn't safe staying there alone.

Not that he's safer on the road, obviously, but it's still better than doing nothing and waiting to die from starvation or to be strangled in his sleep by a bunch of desperate thieves.

So, here he is, drenched in sweat and trying to climb a stupid hill with his whole life in his backpack and his feet hurting like hell in his shitty old sneakers. The thing is, Ori isn't made for that kind of adventure. He's small and almost skinny – though nowadays everyone's more or less underfed – and he doesn't know how to fight. The only weapon he possesses is his late brother's knife, and he's fairly sure he wouldn't know how to use it in a fight. His only hope is to stay away from trouble – and to hope that trouble doesn't find him – and try to survive long enough to see the Canadian border. He quickly ties his hair in a pony tail and wills his feet to go on.

OD-OD-OD-OD

As much as Ori loved California before, he can't say he's sad to leave it. Too many people, too many risks. Oregon isn't as pretty – well, it isn't home, at least – but it's far less populated, which is both a blessing and a pain in the ass. Ori is glad for the lack of human beings – not so much for the lack of food. He's no hunter, after all, and couldn't possibly tell edible berries and mushrooms from poisonous ones. He's exceptionally ill-equipped for wild life, in fact. Not that he's better suited to the rough life in city areas.

In his little home town in California, he used to teach the kids to read and write, and do simple math. People paid him in food or clothes or whatever they had to spare.

On the road, things are different. Whenever his backpack is empty of any food, he has to pass through cities that once were alive and flourishing and full of cars and trains and all those things that are now just memories. Cities that are now little more than shanty towns full of desperate humans that look like ghosts and of violent men who seem to get off on whatever power they have. At the beginning, he tried to trade some of his things, but he shortly realized that he hadn't that much to spare, and he wasn't in a position that allowed him a fair negotiation.

So he steals what he can now. Not that he's proud of it, really. But he's hungry and helpless, and the only other mean he has to get food doesn't appeal to him all that much. Oh, he has done it, once. Sucked off a man behind the ruins of a building for salted meat and a piece of bread.

He prefers not to think about it, most of the time. There's no use dwelling on such things anyway.

OD-OD-OD-OD

The other man is small, smaller than Ori even – it's obvious even with the way he's kneeling, sitting back on his heels. He's quietly humming to himself, his curly hair bouncing slightly on his head, as if everything was right with the world, and he's stirring something in a pot hanging above a small fire.

Ori can see the bag full of food. Even apples, if his eyes don't deceive him. The curly-haired man can't be much of a threat, and Ori tightens his hold on his knife. He's about to jump forward when several things happen.

Someone calls out a name.

A hand fastens itself over Ori's mouth while his right arm is twisted behind himself, forcing him to release his knife.

The curly haired-man spots him, green eyes wide and mouth half-open.

And Ori can't help but think of his brothers. His vision blurs as tears fill his eyes and his chest feels too tight to breathe.

There are words spoken around him, but Ori can't understand what they mean.

This is it, then. This is the end.


	2. Of sweat and rust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second one, meet the strangers!

"Dwalin, no!"

Ori can hardly breathe and he forces himself to open his eyes. The small man is standing now, looking furious and glaring – but not at Ori, at the man who's holding him, apparently.

"Bastard was 'bout to kill you!" the man growls behind him in a low voice, and Ori shakes his head, desperately.

"No, please, I swear-"

"Shut up!"

Ori feels his eyes fill with tears and he sees the man he wanted to rob earlier looking at him curiously.

"Release him, Dwalin. I don't think he'd have done anything except trying to steal some food" the man says softly. There's another figure approaching them from Ori's right, tall and broad and with long dark hair. He's frowning deeply as he's taking in the scene and Ori is surprised to see the smaller man smiles brightly.

"Thorin!"

"What's going on? Who's that?"

"Well, we would know if Dwalin wasn't so set on strangling the poor boy. Let him go, will you? He's no threat."

"He had a knife."

"Yes, and now you have his knife and he's alone while there are three of us. I think it's safe enough, Dwalin. He's looking even thinner than me, for pity's sake."

The man lets him go and Ori falls forward on his hands, barely avoiding hitting his face on the dusty ground. He straightens and sits on his heels, forcing himself to look up. He wants to tell them that he doesn't mean any harm. That he's just hungry and desperate. That he's alone and doesn't know how to provide for himself without stealing what he needs. But his throat is closed and he can only look at the smaller man and hope that these men will show some mercy.

"Hey now, it's alright. My name is Bilbo. This is Thorin, and the paranoid giant behind you is Dwalin" the man says, and his voice is soft and soothing.

"Ori. My name's Ori."

"Stand up, Ori. We won't hurt you. I take it you're hungry?"

"Are you kidding me?"

The big man – Dwalin – steps around Ori and looks him down. He's – well, huge. His head is shaved and tattoos decorate almost every inch of visible skin, except for his face, which is half hidden by a thick beard. He's dressed much like the dark haired man – kaki cargo pants over black boots and a black tee-shirt. Ori does his best to stand his ground.

"Dwalin!"

"What, are we going to feed him now?"

"Yes, that's exactly what we're going to do."

Bilbo crosses his arms over his chest – which is covered in a rather daring purple shirt - and frowns, and the tall man beside him – Thorin – is looking faintly amused.

"Fucking-"

"Dwalin" Thorin says. "Leave it be."

"I'll just go... Just... please, let me go" Ori whispers, and he hates how small his voice is sounding.

Biblo glares at Dwalin and swiftly makes his way to Ori.

"Come now. You're looking dead on your feet. We've got a good rabbit stew there, Dwalin might be grumpy but he's a awesome hunter. Don't make that face, Dwalin, I can see you. Better being invited than trying to steal, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, I was just-"

"It's alright, I know. I've been known to steal one thing or two myself – shut it, Thorin – and we understand. Sit now."

Ori does as he's told, feeling a bit numb but quite relieved to be spared – for now. Bilbo seems like a friendly and truly kind young man – and that's rare enough. And the other two – well, they're rather intimidating and Ori guesses they've every right to be wary of him after he's tried to rob them with a knife, after all. Ori startles badly when a metal bowl with a matching spoon is thrust into his hands, and he watches dumbly as Thorin sits next to Bilbo, apparently sharing his bowl, and as Dwalin eats where he's standing, still frowning and shooting suspicious glances to Ori in between bits.

"Dig in, it's much better hot."

Bilbo is smiling gently and Ori lifts the spoon to his mouth with a trembling hand. It's really good, tender chunks of meat and bits of potatoes in a thick juice that smells like herbs and pepper. Ori looks at Bilbo in surprise and meets Thorin's intense blue eyes.

"Bilbo is a good cook. And a rather good thief, which explains why we have vegetables and herbs at hand."

"Hey!"

Bilbo's face is pink but he doesn't deny it, and Ori's eyes widen as Thorin brushes his knuckles against the other's cheek. Oh, he thinks. That explains the shared meal and Thorin's fond – not to mention amused – looks. There's something nice in witnessing such a simple act of tenderness and Ori smiles behind his spoon, nearly forgetting why he's here in the first place.

"Do you live around here?" Bilbo suddenly asks, and Ori shakes his head.

"No. No, I don't. I'm... I'm from California, actually. But... well... my brother died and there wasn't anything left for me there, so I thought I would try my luck in Canada."

Ori blinks as Thorin lets out a put-out sigh and Dwalin grumbles unhappily.

"Did I say something?"

"You didn't. It's just that we're actually trying to reach Canada ourselves."

"Oh. Great."

Ori still doesn't see how it warrants Thorin's and Dwalin's reactions.

"No way, Thorin."

"Dwalin, you know it's no use to discuss this."

"No. We're not goin' to take in all the strays we find on the road, Thorin."

"Hey! I'm no stray, and neither is Ori!"

"You don't even know him!"

"It's not safe to be alone and you know that."

"He's not comin'."

Ori watches the exchange with wide eyes until Thorin seems to take pity on him.

"Bilbo thinks you should be coming with us, since we're heading in the same direction."

"Oh! No, no, I'll be fine, I couldn't possibly-"

"Nonsense. The roads are dangerous and there's safety in numbers. And I've been in your position, until those two came along. I won't let you go on your own when you could as well come with us."

"I can handle myself."

Bilbo's gaze softens and Dwalin snorts and rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, right."

"I did alright until now!"

"Yes, you did" Bilbo calmly states. "And we would all beneficiate from travelling together."

"I don't know... I mean..."

"No need to make a decision right away. We're camping here tonight. Stay and you'll decide tomorrow."

Thorin's voice is deep and even and Bilbo beams at him. It seems reasonable, and what does Ori have to lose? Besides, it's nice to have someone to talk to. Not to mention Bilbo's cooking. Ori nods slowly and Bilbo grins happily. Thorin rolls his eyes but he seems pleased enough, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Bilbo's slender neck.

Ori doesn't dare to look at Dwalin, though.


	3. Breathing in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And third one, and that'll be all for today folks ^^

The night is quickly coming upon them, and Ori fidgets restlessly on his spot on the ground. He's not sure whether he should stay with them as Thorin and Bilbo offered him to, or follow his instincts and flee when he still can. Both options have their merits, obviously. Fleeing means that everything goes back to normal, well, as normal as Ori's life in that fucked-up world can be. Staying means having company and food, and relative safety, if the three men are really the decent human beings they seem to be. Thorin has told him that he shouldn't decide tonight, but Ori knows that he won't leave if he stays any longer.

Bilbo is currently sitting between Thorin's legs, the taller man humming softly under his breath – and what a nice, deep voice he has – as his boyfriend is mending a grey shirt, his face scrunched up in concentration. The giant – Dwalin – hasn't said anything since the initial heated discussion with his friends and keeps on cleaning his weapons a few feet away, but his dark grey eyes are on Ori more often than not.

What to do? He knows what his brothers would have done.

Dori would thank them and go, Ori thinks with a painful pang. His older brother wouldn't have trusted strangers enough to stay, and he would have been appalled to learn that Ori is considering it at all.

Nori would stay – and then he would probably rob the three men in their sleep and disappear before dawn.

But he's not his brothers – and they're not by his side anymore, and never will be again. No, it's his decision, and he must decide what he wants. And seeing the way Bilbo and Thorin are so at ease with each other, and even the way Dwalin watch over them, Ori knows what he wants.

He craves companionship. He needs the warmth of shared meals and the safety of not sleeping on his own in the wild. And perhaps more than that, there's the sheer relief of not being completely alone in the world. Ori didn't realize how lonely he truly felt until he saw the deep connections that these men share – trust and friendship and even love. He misses that kind of people, who care about each other. Who could care about him, eventually.

"I think I'm done for tonight. There's not enough light anymore. I'm beat anyway. Ori, we take turns to keep watch at night, so you've got nothing to fear. Have you got a bedroll or something?"

"Yes, yes. But, I, uh, I want to help. I could keep watch as well, I mean-"

"No offense, but we don't know you yet. Maybe if you stay with us long enough, we'll consider it."

Thorin's voice is stern but not unkind, and Ori nods, his cheeks burning. It makes sense, of course it does, but he still feels a bit hurt somehow. Bilbo and Dwalin both put their things away and seem to settle for the night, setting two thick bedrolls side by side on the ground. Thorin must take the first watch, Ori supposes. Dwalin probably follows, the second watch must be the hardest one. And Bilbo the last, and he probably takes care of the breakfast as well. Ori fumbles with his backpack for a while before he finally manages to undo the knots that tie his bedroll. Dwalin is glaring at him and Ori throat feels too tight.

"Ori? You should come and lie down beside us. We always keep close, especially at night."  
Bilbo smiles encouragingly and Ori can only nod before shyly laying his bedroll next to Dwalin's. He doesn't raise his head to look at the huge man, and he quickly settles down before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"Er... I just... Thank you. For letting me stay with you. You didn't have to and I really... really appreciate it. For what it's worth, I'm truly sorry that I tried to steal your food."

"Don't beat yourself over it. We get what it's like to be hungry. Good night, Ori."

Bilbo's smile is blinding, even in the near-darkness, and Ori relaxes a little.

"Thanks. Good night."

Soon both men seem asleep, if Dwalin light snores and Bilbo regular breathing are any clue, and Ori is oddly comforted by their sleeping sounds. He can see Thorin from the corner of his eye. The older man is apparently reading a book, but every once in a while, he raises his head, piercing eyes scanning the rocks and sand around them. Once again the relief of not being alone anymore fills his heart with a content and warm feel.

It's like he can breathe again. Ori falls asleep with a smile on his lips.

OD-OD-OD-OD

Ori wakes up in a panic. He's panting and sweating and something is preventing him from standing up, from escaping, someone is pinning him down and he has to get out of there and-

"Shhh! Ori, calm down, it's just me! You're fine, you're fine, it's just a nightmare."

Bilbo's hand are on his shoulders and his face is really close.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We all have our nightmares, don't we? Come, I'll make us some coffee, it's nearly dawn anyway."

Ori wraps his blanket around his shoulders, shivering slightly – from the nightmare or from the early morning air, he couldn't say – and follows Bilbo in the dark.

The curly haired man has started a small fire and a pot of water is heating over it.

"I've, er, found a package of instant coffee some time ago. It's really good, you'll see. I've even got some honey left if you'd like some."

"Yes, please."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No, thanks. I know it helps sometimes, but…"

"Not always" Bilbo whispers, and they share a sad smile.

"No, not always."

"I'm glad you stayed. No one should be alone on the road."

"I'm glad you offered. I hope I didn't cause any trouble between you and your friends."

Bilbo snorts and fixes their coffee in two metal cups.

"You didn't, don't worry. Dwalin's bark is far worse than his bite, and Thorin couldn't refuse help to anyone even if he wanted to. They'll be just fine."

Ori doesn't know what to answer, so he just takes the offered cup with a grateful smile and wraps his chilled hands around it.

Bilbo and he remain silent until the first rays of sunlight wake the two other men, sipping on their coffee and lost in their own thoughts. Still, there's a sense of peace in Ori's heart that hasn't been there in a long time, and when Dwalin and Thorin join them, Ori helps Bilbo prepare more coffee and share the last of their biscuits between them.

Dwalin even grunts a 'thank you' when Ori hands him his cup of coffee, and the redhead feels oddly accomplished.

He doesn't belong yet. But maybe he could, with time.


	4. Chemicals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, I hope you'll like it! Let me know?

Ori can't remember a time when he's been more relaxed. Perhaps when he had been a child? He's not sure, it was so long ago, and the shadow of the upcoming apocalypse was already looming over them, through rumors and high prices and food riots.

But right now, as he's hiking another god damned dry hill under the unforgiving sun, he feels strangely content. Bilbo is telling him and Thorin a story about his childhood, happily gesturing in front of him, to Thorin's obvious fond amusement. Dwalin is behind them, as per usual, apparently. Thorin has explained earlier that Dwalin prefers to keep an eye on them, because according to the bulky man they've got a bad habit of getting in trouble. Bilbo has chuckled at that, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Ori could practically hear the burly man behind them roll his eyes.

He's sweating and his feet are hurting like hell and he feels as if he might in fact very well pass out, but he can't wipe the stupid grin out of his face. Trying to rob Bilbo wasn't such a bad idea after all.

OD-OD-OD-OD

It happens before dinner. Dwalin is gone to hunt or find water or whatever it is he does when he leaves with that murderous scowl on his face, and Ori has excused himself for a few minutes for a very much needed alone-time. He hasn't thought of that before, but releasing his bowels or his bladder is in fact more problematic when you travel with other people. Though he supposes he will get less shy about it as time goes by, because Dwalin and Thorin sure don't think twice about it before peeing in front of the others. Only Bilbo seems to share Ori's need for privacy.

Anyway, Ori comes back from his little trip in the wild feeling much lighter when he sees it.

Bilbo and Thorin are sitting on the ground next to each other, and Bilbo is holding his shirt up, showing a pale and slightly rounded belly.

And Thoring is holding a syringe and injecting him with something. Bilbo closes his eyes and Ori bites his lower lip to stay silent.

Fuck, what the fuck is happening?

When he's done, Thorin kisses Bilbo on his cheek and carefully puts the syringe back in its little metal box, before hiding it at the bottom of his backpack.

Ori waits for a few minutes before joining them, trying to act as if nothing happened.

He needs to talk to Bilbo as soon as possible. And he needs a good plan, too.

Nori would be so much better for this kind of thing. Still, he has to do something. Bilbo doesn't deserve this, and Ori can't bear to watch it.

OD-OD-OD-OD

The opportunity Ori has been waiting for finally presents itself the next day. Thorin isn't feeling so good – some kind of migraine that is apparently not unusual, not that Ori pities him in any way - and Dwalin doesn't want to leave him alone in his state, so Ori volunteers to go with Bilbo to wash their dishes. Dwalin raises an unimpressed eyebrow, but Bilbo argues that they'll just yell for help if needed.

Ori finally finds the courage to speak up when they're almost done.

"Bilbo? I've meant to talk to you about Thorin and what he's doing to you. You don't have to stay with him, you know. I think we could go tonight. I'll stay awake and we'll go as soon as they're both asleep. We'll be just fine, the two of us, you'll see."

"What?" Bilbo is looking completely bewildered and slightly concerned. "Ori, are you alright? I don't understand a word of what you're saying."

Ori sighs and steels himself.

"I saw you yesterday. With Thorin. You don't need this shit, and he shouldn't give it to you." Ori's anger flares at the mere of thought of it. Humans could be truly disgusting, in this world more than ever. "You'll have a rough couple of days with the withdrawal, but-"

"Wait, wait, wait!"

Bilbo is holding his hands up, his cheeks very red and his eyes furious.

"This is not- fuck. This is not what you think it is."

"Bilbo, you don't have to protect him-"

"No! Listen, will you? It's… I'm not a drug addict or anything like that. It's… Thorin just helps me because I'm not doing so well with needles."

"Oh… Are you ill?"

Ori wracks his brain to find any illness that would need injections. Diabetes, maybe?

"No. I'm not. I'm just…" Bilbo looks away for a few seconds, and when his eyes meets Ori's again, he seems determined and almost angry, as if he expects Ori to react badly. "I'm a man. But… I wasn't born like that. I… need a little help to correct Nature's mistake."

"Oh!" Ori feels like a fucking idiot. "You're trans?"

"Yes."

"Shit. I'm so sorry, I thought… I thought Thorin was keeping you by him and drugging you, you know, I've seen things like that before and I-God, I'm so sorry, Bilbo."

Bilbo seems a bit confused for a moment, but then his eyes clear and he chuckles.

"No, don't be. I'm glad to know you'd be ready to help a near stranger like that. It's very brave of you, but I already knew that you were a good guy."

"Still, I feel like an idiot for jumping to the worst conclusion."

"Well, we live in the worst world, don't we? The worst conclusions are often the correct ones."

"True."

Ori smiles and is relieved to see Bilbo smile in return.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"What?" Ori frowns and shakes his head when he finally understands. "Why would it? God, I've never been so relieved in all my life. Not only I actually like Thorin, but I have no idea how we would have survived together with you going through a withdrawal and me being, well, my useless self."

Ori snort's interrupted by Bilbo's quick hug and he briefly stops breathing.

"Don't sell yourself short, Ori. You've just proved what kind of friend you are, and that's more than enough."

"Could, er, maybe not tell Dwalin and Thorin about this?"

Ori feels his cheeks heat up with shame, but he really doesn't want to face their reactions should they know.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just tell them you know about me, it'll make things easier next time we stop in a town."

"Why?"

"Because I always try to find my… drug" Bilbo explains with a wink, and Ori nods in understanding. "But… I'd appreciate if you kept my secret for yourself outside of our little group. It's not safe."

"I wouldn't tell anyone."

"I didn't think you would, but you know…"

"Better safe than sorry? I understand" Ori says with a smile, and Bilbo grins, relieved and happy, and Ori enjoys the warmth spreading in his chest.


	5. Breaking in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, an update! The chapter is a bit short, sorry about that, I hope you'll like it anyway!  
> And a happy new year to all of you!!

"What d'you want?"

Ori chokes on his mouthful of rabbit.

"Excuse me?"

"What d'you want?" Dwalin repeats, his grey eyes focused on Ori's flaming face.

"I… Sorry, I don't understand."

Dwalin snorts and sets his plate on the ground. He shots a quick look to the side, where Thorin and Bilbo are sharing their meal between soft touches and whispered endearments.

"I think you do. You're not stupid."

"Er… thank, I think?"

Dwalin seems faintly annoyed by now, and Ori begins to feel quite worried. The man looks like he could crush Ori's head with his bare hands, and he really doesn't want to test his temper.

"At first I thought you wanted the safety and the food. You look pretty useless."

Ori opens his mouth to protest, because, honestly? but Dwalin raises an eyebrow and shakes his head.

"But I've watched you. You're clever and you must have done alright on your own. So I don't think that's it at all."

Ori's not sure what to say to that – or even if he should say something at all. Dwalin doesn't let him talk anyway.

"So, what d'you want?"

Ori realizes that he never has heard the older man talk so much, and certainly not to him.

"I don't want anything at all! I'm glad to travel with you, that much is true. It's… Fuck." Ori closes his eyes and tries to breathe evenly. "I'm not like you. I'm not strong and I felt quite desperate before meeting you, alright? I left only because I didn't have any other choice. And, well, yes, it's nice to feel safe and to eat on a regular basis, and I'm sorry that I can't be of more use to you three, because I know I'm taking more than I'm giving. But… I've… no hidden agenda or anything. What would you want me to do anyway? Have you seen yourself? Or Thorin?"

"Could be a trap. You could have some friends waiting for a sign of you. Could plan to kill us all and take whatever we have."

"What? I-I mean… Is this really what you think?"

Ori can't help but feeling hurt, and his hands shake around his plate. He raises his head only to see that Bilbo and Thorin are listening to them now, the first with his mouth gaping and the second with keen interest.

"Don't know. You tell me."

"You know what? Fuck you. I've done nothing to deserve this, and if you don't want me to travel with you, just say so."

Dwalin scoffs and opens his mouth to answer, but Bilbo's angry voice stops him.

"Dwalin, that's enough. I know you mean well, but you're going too far. If Ori had anything planned, he would have acted by now. This is ridiculous."

"Sorry, my friend, but I agree with him."

Thorin's deep voice seems to end the conversation, and Ori once more marvels at their dynamics. Dwalin shrugs and rises, muttering under his breath as he leaves their camp. Thorin chuckles quietly, and Bilbo shakes his head with a fond smile.

"Sorry about that, Ori."

"It's okay."

"No, it's really not, but Dwalin can't help it. He's suspicious by nature, and awfully protective of Thorin and me."

"I understand."

And Ori does, really. This is a terrible world, and terrible things happen. He would be protective too, if he had friends.

OD-OD-OD-OD

Dwalin approaches him again that night, looking both shy and murderous, which does nothing to calm Ori's beating heart. Thorin and Bilbo are already wrapped in their bedrolls, probably half asleep already. Ori should do the same, but the need to draw something has been strong all day, and he wants to finish this one before going to sleep. There's not enough light, he knows it, and tomorrow he will be mad at himself for wasting good paper with an half-arsed sketch, but right now he doesn't care.

"'M sorry."

"Don't be. I understand."

Ori doesn't look up but he can practically feel the tattooed man roll his eyes.

"Thing is, we didn't meet many people we could trust. Seems too good to be true, t'be honest. So, yeah, sorry 'bout that. If you try to screw us over, though, I'll kill you."

"Fair enough" Ori stutters, and Dwalin's answering grin seems a bit too shark-like for his taste, especially under the strange light of the fire.

"What're you doin'?"

"Oh! Just drawing a little."

Ori angles his sketching book so that Dwalin can see what he's been drawing: Bilbo's kneeling on the ground, stirring their stew and laughing while Thorin lays besides him, a soft half-smile on his lips.

Dwalin frowns and takes the book from Ori's hands. Ori tries not to be too offended.

"It's good. 'M sure you could have made good money with your art, before."

"Oh, well, it's never been about that. It's something I like to do."

Dwalin only hums and runs a broad and tattooed finger over Thorin's face.

"You've captured them well. And Thorin doesn't even look too much like a lovesick moron."

Ori snorts before he can help himself and is relieved to see Dwalin's lips slightly turn up. The man finally looks up and studies Ori for a moment, his face unreadable, before giving him his book back.

They don't talk anymore after that, but the silence isn't uncomfortable, and Ori even relaxes enough to finish his drawing before curling himself in his bedroll.

And he knows what – or rather who – he'll be drawing next.


	6. Shaping up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a new chapter!  
> Warning: nothing graphic, but there is mention of potentially disturbing behavior and violence here.
> 
> I hope you like it, let me know either way!

The city looks small and safe enough. Little houses and quiet streets – no gas means no cars, and that's probably the one thing Ori doesn't miss – and a few stray cats lounging in the sun.

But they all know better. There are eyes behind the windows and a deafening kind of silence that makes Ori's skin crawl. He sees Thorin exchange a worried glance with Bilbo before taking the lead, walking briskly trough the dust covered main street. Ori is insanely relieved to feel Dwalin's intimidating presence behind him.

They thought they could try to gather a few supplies here before hitting the road again, but something isn't right. Most communities are wary of strangers, but there should be people in the streets. It's around noon, and there should be women trying to sell what they're cooking and men exchanging the product of their hunt for supplies. Kids playing in the dirt with skinny dogs and empty cans.

It's too quiet. They're being watched and Ori's mind is screaming at him to leave this town as soon as possible, to-

"Hey!"

Someone is calling for them. Thorin freezes and Bilbo walks right into him. Ori bits back an hysterical giggle and jumps a foot in the air when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.

"Quiet" Dwalin whispers, and Ori nods.

He couldn't have talked anyway.

He watches as Thorin slowly turns around to face whoever it is that has shouted. Bilbo does the same, though he's careful to stay mostly hidden behind his lover's broad body. Ori quickly looks over his shoulder. Dwalin has angled his body so that he's both shielding Ori and facing the newcomer.

Dwalin's hand tightens on his shoulder, and Ori watches as his free hand slowly goes to the gun strapped to his hip, broad fingers resting lightly on it.

"What are you doing here? We don't like strangers here. Never have."

Ori looks at the man who has spoken.

He's a tall and slim man, with long dirty blond hair tied back on his neck. His pale blue eyes are fixed on Thorin, as if he knew instinctively who he should speak to. Who's the leader.

Dwalin's fingers are still on Ori's shoulder, strong and warm and oddly reassuring.

"We don't mean any harm. We're just looking for a few supplies, and we'll be on our way." Thorin has raised both hands, palms facing outward, in a placating gesture but his voice is strong with a steely edge to it that the man can not miss. Nor can he miss Dwalin's hand on his gun.

"We don't have anything to spare."

Thorin frowns and Ori sees the quick glance he spares to Dwalin. Whatever silent communication they have make Thorin frowns.

"Alright. Then we'll be on our way."

The man's eyes travel from Dwalin to Thorin, and then settle on Ori, cold and with a disturbing kind of hunger in them that makes him shiver.

The redhead holds his breath.

"Yeah. You better go."

Thorin nods and takes Bilbo's elbow, before nodding to the man and slowly walking away. Dwalin's fingers twitch on his gun, but when Ori looks up, he mouths 'go' and pushes him forward. Ori stumbles a little and follows Thorin and Bilbo, forcing himself not to look behind. His heart is beating wildly in his chest and there are still eyes on them, behind those dark windows, and suddenly he can't get out of this town fast enough.

Dwalin's footsteps are loud behind him, too loud in the heavy silence, but the sound helps Ori to focus. It reminds him that he's not alone anymore, as well, and the knots in his gut ease a little.

OD-OD-OD-OD

"What the fuck was that?"

Bilbo's eyes are wide and he looks like he might cry. Ori guesses he must not look much better himself.

"Thorin, what's wrong with this place?"

Thorin sighs and meets Dwalin steady gaze again.

"I'm not sure."

"But… ?"

"But we've seen something like this in the South. About ten months ago, I think? Anyway… almost the same creepy place. Silent town, no one outside. But… we were watched. Nobody confronted us, though. We learned afterwards that the people there are cannibals."

"What?"

"They eat humans, Bilbo."

"I fucking know what cannibals are!"

Dwalin snorts and cracks his neck.

"Well, then you know. Thorin and I don't look like easy preys, I supp'se, so they just let us pass through. Others weren't so lucky."

Ori has to clear his throat twice before the words finally get out.

"And you think this town is the same?"

Dwalin shrugs, but it's answer enough.

"I can't be sure, but… I'd prefer not to stay here too long, just in case."

Thorin sighs and wipes his sweaty face with his shirt. He seems suddenly older. Weary. Ori has a sudden flare of sympathy for him, because it's obvious that he feels responsible for all of them. That he is, whether he wants it or not, the leader of their little group.

Dwalin grunts his assent and claps his friend on the shoulder none too gently, before gesturing for Ori and Bilbo to continue walking.

Better put as much distance as possible between them and that strange place, Ori thinks.

OD-OD-OD-OD

They stop later than usual, and set up the camp in silence. Thorin seems worried and Ori knows that they will have to find another town to get what they need to keep on travelling north. Dwalin hasn't had time to hunt anything and they eat spaghetti from cans that Bilbo apparently stole from a deserted store a few weeks ago, huddled around a small fire.

Dwalin settles down to sleep soon after and gestures for Ori to do the same. The redhead watches as Bilbo whispers quietly to Thorin, cuddled against the man's broad chest, and understand that Dwalin wants to give them some privacy.

"Good night" he says into the dark, and Dwalin hums in response.

Ori shivers under his thin blanket and shifts on his bedroll, trying to be quiet about it. His unease doesn't disappear, the feeling of being watched, in this silent town, and Thorin's chilling words giving his already overactive brain the substance it needs to create various horrifying scenarios, images forming themselves behind his closed eyelids until he can't breathe, he can't-

"Shh. Calm down. Com'ere."

And Ori does, shuffling until he's lying against the other man's side, barely touching but still close enough to feel his warmth.

"Sleep now" Dwalin says, in his low and hoarse voice.

Amazingly, Ori does.


	7. Checking (Dwalin) out

Drawing Dwalin is highly frustrating. First because Ori doesn't want to be caught staring, for some reason he'd rather not think about – God knows he's not been worried about that at all for Bilbo and Thorin. And then because Ori can't seem to get it right. The eyes, the proud stance, the intimidating bulk, the strong hands covered in dark blue-green designs.

Shit, he's staring again.

And there are too many things Ori can't capture with his pencil. Dwalin's deep voice. His warmth. The feeling of safety that Ori gets just from being near him. His fierce protectiveness of his friends. The silent way he's enjoying his morning coffee, already alert but appearing somehow softer, more approachable, than at any other moment of the day.

It's still early, and the light is pale and bright. Bilbo blinks sleepily, half slumped on Thorin's shoulder, who's studying an old-looking map with a worried frown. Ori wonders if Thorin's mind sometimes rests. He seems to be always thinking, always planning, and Ori's seen the man tossing and turning in his sleep often enough to know that his sleep isn't as restful as it should be.

Ori sighs and turns his gaze back on Dwalin, wishing he could do something to alleviate Thorin's burden. He stiffens when he meets Dwalin's gaze. The man's grey eyes are intense and serious, and Ori struggles to breathe. Dwalin seems to observe him for a few seconds, before he nods and looks away, his face unreadable and his lips pressed into a thin line behind his beard.

Ori sighs shakily and gulps what's left of his coffee, trying not to choke on it and humiliate himself on top of everything.

When he opens his eyes, Dwalin's half-drawn face stares at him from his drawing pad. God, he's in so much trouble.

OD-OD-OD-OD

The man lying on the ground, his legs still half in the car, could have been Dori's age. With hair gone white too early and deep lines of worry making his face look older than he really was. Thorin stands up and shakes his head, only confirming what they already know.

Ori looks away and blinks a few times to clear his vision. It's stupid to spill tears for someone he didn't know, really. It doesn't matter if the whole thing reminds him too much of another death, he shouldn't be so weak.

"Well, good news, there's gas in there." Dwalin drawls and Ori has to look away as the burly man drags the body away with Thorin's help.

He jumps two feet in the air when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.

"Poor guy probably had a heart attack or something. He's dead. Nothing we can do for him." Thorin says softly, and Ori feels like a child.

"I know."

Ori dunks his head as blood floods his face. He _knows,_ for fuck's sake.

"And we need the car. It'll save us days of walk."

Ori nods and keeps his eyes on the ground. Thorin squeezes his shoulder once before letting go, and Ori follows him to the old and rusty grey pick-up. Dwalin is already sitting on the back, his riffle resting on his bent knees.

"Up you go, Ori. I'll drive and Bilbo will check the map. Cars are great but attract attention, and we'll have to stay clear of towns. You and Dwalin keep an eye open."

Ori nods and awkwardly climbs in the truck, settling next to Dwalin with his back against the pick-up back window.

Thorin whispers something to Bilbo, hugging him briefly before making him get in the car, and Ori is slightly relieved to see that someone else seems shaken up by the discovery of that dead man.

Dwalin nudges him gently with his shoulder, and Ori looks up.

"Alright there?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't get easier, but there's nothing to do 'bout it."

"I know." Ori sighs and shakes his head. "I just feel awful, you know? Robbing a dead man… I know he doesn't need it anymore, but it still doesn't feel right. It's stupid." Ori snorts and he closes his eyes, resting his back on the window as the pick-up rumbles to life under him.

"It's not. You're a good guy, that's all."

Ori shrugs and opens his eyes again, looking at the cloud of dust following the pick-up.

"You and Thorin… Were you in the military, before?"

"Yeah." Dwalin chuckles. "Didn't do any good, in the end."

"Well, you're still helping people, aren't you? Look at me."

Ori grins up at Dwalin and is delighted to see the man smirk in return.

"I s'ppose you could say that." Dwalin reaches to his belt and gets his handgun. "Speaking of which, you'd better learn to use this."

"Oh, I'm not sure-"

"Shut up and listen."

Ori's mouth snaps shut and he takes the gun with trembling hands. Dwalin's broad hands cover his, moving Ori's fingers expertly into the correct position.

"So, this is the way you hold it."

Ori tries to pay attention to what Dwalin's saying, but between the bumps of the road, the scorching sun, and the broad man's very distracting presence, it's kind of hard. It doesn't get any easier when Dwalin fishes two battered baseball caps from his pack and sets one on Ori's head with a grunted warning about heatstroke.

Hopefully he won't have to use a gun anytime soon.

OD-OD-OD-OD

After awhile, looking around becomes boring. There's nothing apart from dust and rocks. And Dwalin is there to look out for any threat anyway.

Ori hesitates and before he can ask, Dwalin sighs loudly.

"Just spit it out. You're driving me crazy with all that fidgeting."

"Sorry. I just wondered if I could draw you?"

"What, now?"

"Well… I mean, I understand if you don't want to, it's not-"

"Just do it and keep quiet."

"Right."

Ori scrambles on his knees to fetch his pencil and drawing book from his backpack before sitting back next to Dwalin. The man raises an eyebrow when he sees Ori's half-finished drawing, but doesn't comment – and thank God for little mercies – and turns his gaze to the desolate landscape around them once more.

Ori's fingers tighten around his pencil, and he starts drawing.


	8. This is it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart bleeds for Belgium today. After Paris last year, Brussel has been targeted by terrorist attacks... It makes me so sad to see so much hate and senseless violence. May we find peace together. May our children live in a better world than this one. And may all the victims rest in peace.
> 
> On another note, here's another chapter... I hope you'll like it!

They run out of gas far too soon for Ori's taste. Granted, his butt hurts from sitting at the back of the pick-up for so long and he's glad to be able to chat with Bilbo again, but there's something to be said about not having to walk. Or being able to cover so much distance in just a few hours.

But the motor dies with a last spluttering noise and they're on their feet again, with Thorin mumbling about directions and checking his map every so often and Bilbo babbling about gardening, of all things, and Dwalin walking behind them – and Ori is still amazed that such a big man is able to move so silently, so stealthily. He resists the urge to turn around to look at the other man and tries to focus on what Bilbo's saying – something about tomatoes and watering – and on making his feet go on.

When they stop to set up camp that night, Thorin is smiling and even Dwalin seems somewhat relaxed.

"We're in Washington" Thorin says with a wide smile.

"Really?" Bilbo asks excitedly.

"Yes, from my calculations, we're just east from Portland."

Dwalin snorts and sits on the ground, wincing as he begins to remove his heavy boots.

"Means we could be anywhere, since you couldn't read a map t'save your life."

Thorin huffs and splutters for a minute, but Bilbo speaks before the dark haired man can find his words.

"Well, let's not fight over this. In any case, that car spared us several days of travel, and I think we're all thankful for it."

Dwalin hums, reclining on his elbows and smirking at a still fuming Thorin. Ori sits next to him and tries to finish his drawing.

It's not half bad, if he dares say so himself. Dwalin looks intensely alive on the paper, and the eyes are almost alright. Ori sees Dwalin looking at his drawing with a raised eyebrow, but he doesn't comment. Ori suddenly wonders if he should give his drawings to his new friends, as presents. Of course, it's a bit useless, but it's not as if he has something better to give. And he's fairly sure that Bilbo would like the drawing of himself and Thorin, at the very least.

He's drawn out of his reverie when Thorin's deep voice calls his name.

"Hum, sorry, what?"

"I asked what you were planning to do once we reach Canada."

"Oh! Erm, well… I haven't quite figured it out yet. I mean… I have no idea what it's like, you know? But, well, I think I could maybe find a nice place, a quiet village or something where they'd need a teacher." Ori shrugs and smiles ruefully. "I didn't really think about it. I tried to focus on getting there alive."

Bilbo is frowning at him and Thorin smiles, tangling his fingers into his lover's locks.

"I think you should stay with us a bit longer. We actually know where we're going, and you would have time to figure out what you want to do safely."

"You know someone in Canada?"

"My brother." Dwalin grunts out. "Always knew how to play his cards right. Was a diplomat, before all that mess. He's got contacts, and he fled to Canada years ago."

"He's going to be insufferable, actually. Balin – that's Dwalin's brother's name - has been trying to convince us to join him for years, but we always thought we could still do something here, save our country or something." Thoring sighs and shakes his head. "I guess we've been naïve. Anyway, you're more than welcome to stay with us. I don't think any of us would feel very comfortable with leaving you to your own devices once we cross the border."

"Probably would injure yourself or get lost."

"Hey!" Ori punches Dwalin's shoulder, and rolls his eyes as the man doesn't even wince. "I did alright before I met you guys! But I guess it wouldn't hurt to stick together some more. I… thank you."

"You're welcome, Ori." Thorin's eyes quickly flicker to Dwalin's face before he smiles. "I'm starving, I think I'll cook us something-"

"No! Really, love, I've got it! You, uh, should probably relax and maybe try to see where we're heading tomorrow."

Bilbo seems slightly panicked at the idea of Thorin cooking anything, and Dwalin snickers loudly.

"Thorin can't cook" he whispers into Ori's ear – and the red head is not shivering at the feel of Dwalin's breath against the shell of his ear, thank you very much – before smirking at Thorin.

"I hate you both" Thorin says sullenly, and Ori hides his smile behind his hand.

Bilbo pats Thorin on the head as if the tall man were a good dog before checking their supplies to prepare dinner, and Dwalin, still barefoot, stands up and stretches his back. He then kneels next to Thorin and the two of them begin to bicker about directions and safe routes.

Ori takes his drawing book and his pencil and turns the pages until he finds a blank space.

Finally, he belongs.

OD-OD-OD-OD

Of course things go south a few hours after, because that's just his luck. And as he runs next to Bilbo through the night, his heart beating frantically and his eyes full of tears, he wonders why he can't fucking get a break.


	9. Apocalypse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear: I will not give any precision about Bilbo’s surgery – or lack thereof – or anything like that. Whether Bilbo has had surgery before the apocalypse or maybe hopes to get it in Canada or doesn’t want it at all, it’s up to you. I honestly don’t have the answer myself.
> 
> That being said, here's the new chapter, enjoy, and please let me know what you think? See you next chapter!!

Maybe it’s because of the car – Thorin has warned them that it could bring them unwanted attention. Maybe it’s just bad luck. It doesn’t really matter in the end, but Ori has always liked to analyze and overthink every little thing that happens to him, so... he can’t really help but ask himself why the hell they find themselves in this situation.

In the end it’s Dwalin who gives the alarm, whispering urgently to Thorin in the middle of their dinner before making Ori and Bilbo take their backpacks and leave quietly. Bilbo takes Ori’s hand, and they hide behind a dry bush only a few meters away from their camp.

Then it’s a bit blurry, but there are gunshots and Thorin’s yelling “Run!” in a panicked voice, and Bilbo’s hand tighten painfully around his before they leave their hiding spot and do as they’re told.

“Hurry up, Ori!” Bilbo is whispering urgently, his usually soft voice oddly harsh in the dark.

“Where are we going? We’re not even-“

“I know where to go. Thorin has always a back plan. Each time we stop, he makes sure we have a meeting point not too far away should something like this happen.”

“Shouldn’t we get back to help? I mean-“

“NO! Sorry. No, we’d only get in the way. Come on, and keep quiet now.”

Ori obeys, because his brain seems to have turned to mush and his knees feel weak, and, God, they’re going to die and it’s-

“Not now, Ori. Breathe, and follow. Quickly!”

Bilbo’s quiet but stern whisper manages to shake Ori out of his panic attack and he squeezes the other man’s hand once to thank him. Bilbo only nods, and leads him through the small bushes until they reach the road. They cross it quietly and Bilbo gestures for Ori to lay down behind a tall rock. Ori does, and observes as Bilbo looks around them before lying down beside Ori.

“And now?” Ori whispers.

“Now we wait.”

And wait they do. Bilbo seems to get more nervous as the hours go by, because it’s clear that something went wrong, and Ori tries very hard not to think about exactly what could mean. As the first light of dawn reaches them, he can’t wait any longer.

“Bilbo?”

“I know. I’m not sure what to do, it never happened before.”

“We should go back.”

Bilbo looks torn, but Ori knows that the other man wants to know what happened to Dwalin and Thorin at least as much as he does. More, probably. It must be killing him to wonder about his lover’s fate.

“Thorin’s rules are to stay put until they come to find me. I never-“

“Bilbo, it’s clear that for some reason they couldn’t come. We have to go back.”

The curly haired man sighs and closes his eyes.

“Yes. You’re right. I wish Thorin had given us guns, though.”

Ori doesn’t answer, because there’s nothing to say. They don’t have any mean to defend themselves, he knows it, and he’d rather not think about it too much.

He follows Bilbo quietly, trying to keep his eyes and ears open. There’s nothing, though, just the usual sounds of the waking wildlife and the crunch of gravel under their shoes. And moaning.

Wait.

“Bilbo?”

“Yeah, I can hear it too. Quiet.”

Bilbo suddenly drops on the ground and begins to crawl, and Ori has no choice but to do the same. The muffled sounds become louder, moaning and strangled gasps and shushing mumbled words. Suddenly Bilbo stands up and runs, making Ori startle behind him.

“Bilbo! Wait!”

But Bilbo doesn’t turn around, he just goes on and Ori scrambles to his feet to follow him through the dry bushes and rocks.

What he discovers a few feet away makes his breath hitch in his throat.

Dwalin is sprawled on the ground, his face deathly pale and his hands balled into tight fists. There’s a piece of wood in his mouth, and he’s biting so hard on it that Ori can see the muscles contract in his jaw.

Thorin’s hands are covered in blood, and he’s kneeling next to Dwalin’s leg, which is covered in more blood, and the metallic smell of it is in the air, and God, Ori is going to be sick.

Bilbo is rummaging through his things, urgently whispering something to Thorin – who is apparently stitching a wound in Dwalin’s thigh, Ori belatedly realizes.

He’s like frozen with shock, but then Dwalin lets out a pained grunt and he’s moving. He sits on the ground and carefully moves Dwalin until the other man’s head is lying in his lap. Dwalin’s eyes briefly open, glazed over with pain, and Ori tries to smile reassuringly.

He tries to forget about the blood and whatever it is that Bilbo and Thorin are doing, and he takes one of Dwalin’s hand in his own trembling ones.

“It was my eldest brother’s idea to go to Canada. He didn’t live long enough to make it, but I think he’d be happy to know I succeeded. If I actually do, you know. He was terrified to live our small town, our house, but he wanted me to have another life.” Ori smiles as Dwalin squeezes his hand, his grey eyes focused on his face, as intense as ever. “I wasn’t actually sad to leave. I’d never travelled before, you know? Never knew anything but that place. So it was kind of exciting. And I hadn’t anything to lose anyway. It’s been hard, alone on the road, but I never regretted my decision to leave. Not once. And now that I’ve met the three of you, I feel like things are finally going up. So you’re going to be alright, because I’ve had enough bad luck to last me a lifetime, and I will go to Canada with the three of you.”

Everything’s quiet, and Ori realizes that Dwalin’s passed out, his mouth lax but his brow furrowed in a frown. Ori sighs and takes the piece of wood out of the man’s mouth, wincing as he spots the teeth marks on it.

“What happened?” he asks softly, feeling Thorin’s and Bilbo’s eyes on him.

“Long story short, we killed them all, but Dwalin got shot in the thigh. By the time we were done and I could take a look at it, he had already lost a lot of blood. I took the bullet out, and stitched it. Bilbo has antibiotics that Dwalin can take as soon as he wakes up. We’ll have to find a town, I’m out of antiseptic and we’ll need more bandages. But he should be fine.”

“Is it safe to stay here?” Bilbo’s voice is small and tired, and Ori raises his head to look at him. Thorin has wrapped an arm around his lover and Bilbo is leaning on the taller man. Thorin sighs.

“I don’t know. I think it’d be safer to move, but Dwalin can’t walk. And he needs to rest. He’ll probably be able to stand and walk with some help later today. We’ll just pray we killed all of them.”

Ori nods and raises his free hand to brush his fingers over Dwalin’s scalp.

“I’m going to check the area once more. Bilbo, will you make us something to eat? And maybe some coffee? I think we all need it.”

Thorin doesn’t ask Ori to do anything, which is just as well, because the redhead has no intention to move. At least until Dwalin wakes up.


	10. I feel it in my bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am deeply saddened by today's shooting in Orlando. My heart goes to the families and friends of the victims, and to the LGBTQ community.
> 
> Here's the new chapter, I hope you'll like it! I'll probably update a bit more regularly now that real life isn't as hectic. Leave me lots of reviews!

Dwalin spends the next hours drifting in and out of a troubled sleep. If he’s surprised to find himself resting in Ori’s lap, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe he’s too much out of it to realize – or to care. Ori almost doesn’t move, as he’s afraid to hurt the bigger man more than he already is.

Bilbo manages to make Dwalin swallow a couple of pills – painkiller and antibiotic – with a little water, and Thorin seems satisfied enough with the wound as he checks it around noon. Ori catches himself brushing the tips of his fingers over Dwalin’s jaw as the bigger man winces during Thorin’s thorough examination, but he doesn’t stop: Dwalin’s is in pain, and he’s only half-conscious anyway, and _fuck it it’s the end of the world_ , and Ori refuses to be embarrassed about comforting an injured man.

Bilbo makes them some lunch, and coaxes Dwalin into eating some. They’ll have to move soon, even Ori knows it, and Thorin’s anxious pacing is obvious enough.

“C’mon Thorin, help me up” Dwalin suddenly says, and Ori fights the urge to say something stupid. Or inappropriate. Or both, possibly.

Thorin shakes his head but helps his friend up anyway, standing slowly and carefully setting Dwalin’s right arm around his shoulders.

“Alright there?”

“Yeah. Let’s go?”

Bilbo frowns and opens his mouth, before apparently thinking better of it and quickly putting his things into his backpack. Ori sighs and stands up as well, wincing as his legs almost give out from under him after staying for so long in the same position. But Dwalin is white with pain and his fingers grip Thorin’s shoulder in a way that has to be painful, and Ori bits back his moan of pain.

“Bilbo, please go ahead. Keep your gun at hand. Ori, you’ll stay behind us. Keep your eyes open, will you?”

Ori nods and straightens, adjusting his backpack over his shoulders. He can do this. He will do this.

OD – OD – OD – OD

They don’t get very far, a few miles at most. Even with Thorin’s help and surprisingly gentle encouragements, Dwalin can’t walk properly and they have to stop quite often to let him take his breath. His limp seems worse each time they stand up again. Ori tries not to completely murder his lower lip by biting on it as he forces himself not to beg Thorin to stop.

Thorin gives up as the sun goes down, and they settle for the night as best as they can. Ori offers to take first watch, because Thorin seems exhausted anyway and he knows that Bilbo always takes the last watch. Thorin nods quietly and hands him a gun, squeezing his shoulder briefly before collapsing on the ground next to Bilbo.

Ori sits down, his fingers tightly wound around the cold metal of the gun, faintly impressed by the trust Thorin has just put in him.

God, he hates those things. He hated them before, and now that one of them has hurt Dwalin, he hates them even more. He barely represses a shiver and tries to focus on their surroundings. Dwalin lays unmoving a few feet away, his brow furrowed even in his sleep. Hopefully a good night sleep will do him some good. They need to move and to find a town to refill their supplies.

And Ori needs Dwalin to be well and look indestructible and awesome. He sighs and looks around once more, willing himself to stop flinching each time he hears something.

There’s no need to say that he’s really relieved when Thorin stands up to relieve him only a couple of hours later. He nods his thanks and gratefully gives the gun back, before settling his thin mat and his ratty blanket next to Dwalin – there’s no need to pretend that he’ll sleep anywhere else, and he does his best to ignore Thorin’s amused gaze on him.

Dwalin mumbles something and Ori wipes the man’s sweaty brow with a reasonably clean corner of his shirt. Then he lies down, resting his fingers on Dwalin’s wrist so that he’s feeling the man’s steady pulse, the warmth of his skin, the strength of his body.

He’s well aware that he shouldn’t allow himself to take that path. It’s hopeless and dangerous.

But he also knows that he couldn’t help himself even if he wanted to. It’s way too late. It’s been too late for a while now, to be honest. And it’s the end of the world anyway. There’s little hope as it is. Ori rather thinks that he’s allowed to experience new things before he dies.

It doesn’t matter if it’s hopeless. He’ll try to get the most of those new feelings, to finally understand what it’s like. It’s likely to be his only chance, and he won’t let it go so easily. He’s been afraid most of his life. He refuses to let his fear ruin this for him.

Dwalin’s heartbeat is still strong and regular under his fingers, and Ori falls asleep with a smile.


	11. Enough...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, an update! I hope you'll like this chapter!
> 
> Additional warning for this chapter: brief & non-graphic dubcon/noncon scene. Read with caution if this may be triggering for you!

 

Ori wakes up with an awful crick in his neck and the feeling of being both too warm and strangely comfy.

Until he opens his eyes.

He's plastered against Dwalin's side, his face almost completely pressed against the other man's shoulder. And Bilbo is looking thoroughly amused from where he's kneeling, apparently helping Dwalin to take his pills with some water.

Which means, of course, that Dwalin is awake. And aware that Ori is very inappropriately cuddling him. Ori cautiously raises his head and meets Dwalin's eyes.

At least he doesn't look ready to punch him or anything like that. Though that's maybe because he's injured. But no, no, Dwalin seems... curious? Surprised, as well. After a few heartbeats, Dwalin raises an eyebrow and grins, and Ori can feel himself blush madly.

"Er... Good morning?"

Bilbo snorts loudly and stands up.

"Thorin's been scouting the area. There's a small town not too far away. We've got a few things to trade, and he's going to see if he can hunt anything. You need antibiotics, and we need more meds anyway. More supplies as well."

Dwalin sighs as Ori slowly sits up.

"I don't like it."

"I know, Dwalin, but we don't have a lot of alternatives here."

"I'm useless like that. We should wait until the next one."

"We don't know how far it will be. You might get an infection in the meantime" Ori says softly. "It wouldn't help any of us."

"Exactly" Bilbo presses. "Dwalin, we'll be careful. We'll see what it looks like. Eventually split up, if we need to."

"Split up is always a bad idea." Dwalin grunts, then looks at Ori. "Help me up."

Ori does, scrambling awkwardly until he can wrap an arm around Dwalin's back to help him sit up.

"Are you okay?"

"Been worse" Dwalin answers grimly, and Ori lets it lie.

OD-OD-OD-OD

It turns out that the town is inhabited and rather well-organized. There's a fence protecting it, and a check-point guarded by three men with riffles on their shoulders. Thorin seems to think that it's a good sign, and Ori can see people on the streets, kids and mothers and men talking to each other and working on houses.

One of the men frowns at their approach and takes a step forward. Thorin gestures for them to stop and he raises his hands.

"Hi. We do not want any trouble. We need supplies and we only hoped we could trade with your people. Then we'll be on our way."

The man relaxes, quietly observing each of them. He's tall and slim, with dark eyes and dark hair tied back on his neck. He seems stong and confident, but his eyes aren't unkind, and Ori feels like they finally have a bit of luck.

"Alright. Only one of you can get in. Unarmed. I'm sorry, our rules. We've learned to be careful."

Thorin sighs but he nods.

"That I understand. I'll go-"

"Not you. Sorry, you look too much like a soldier to me. One of those two" the man says, and he gestures with his hand toward Ori and Bilbo.

There's no way Ori is going to let Bilbo get here. It would be too dangerous, they know nothing of those people.

"Alright. I'll go." He says, and he hopes he sounds more confident that he feels.

He turns around to take what little they have to trade from Bilbo, doing his best to ignore Dwalin's scowl. The man is heavily leaning on Thorin, his pants still shredded and covered in blood. Ori makes a mental note to see if he can find something to replace them.

"Ori, wait-"

"It's alright, Bilbo. I'll be just fine."

Bilbo squeezes his hand before handing him the two rabbits that Thorin's managed to catch this morning. Ori takes a deep breath and turns around.

"Shall I, then?"

The dark haired man nods wordlessly and opens the gate, letting Ori get inside.

Ori doesn't look back.

OD-OD-OD-OD

Half an hour later, Ori is feeling quite proud of himself. He has antibiotics, pain killers, biscuits and even a loaf of fresh bread. He has just traded the last rabbit against a few cans of peaches and beans, and he smiles as he thinks of Bilbo discovering them. The petite woman in front of him smiles and waves him goodbye as her husband takes the rabbit when Ori suddenly remembers something.

"Oh! Sorry, one of my friends need a pair of pants. Jeans or cargos or something like that. He's quite tall, over 6 feet. D'you know if anyone here would have something like that to spare?"

The woman frowns, taken aback, but her husband smiles.

"Well, my things would be too small for your friend, but you could go and ask Peter. Last house on the street. He's a big one. Maybe he can help you with that."

Ori grins and thank them again, carefully loading his backpack with all his supplies before making his way to the house he's been told to go. He knocks cautiously, adjusting the heavy backpack on his shoulders.

As soon as the man opens the door, Ori knows that this has been a mistake.

The man is tall, maybe taller than Dwalin, and just as broad. He's got short grey hair and very light blue eyes, cold and calculating. Ori does his best not to shiver, and he stutters awkwardly but manages to ask what he's come here for.

The man – Peter, they said his name is Peter – looks Ori up and down, before opening the front door wider.

"Come on, then. Let's see if I've got something that would fit your friend."

Ori gets in the house, wincing as the door shuts close too loudly in the dark hallway.

"This way."

The man leads him to his bedroom, opening his wardrobe and mumbling under his breath.

"Ah! Would this be alright?"

He shows Ori a pair of dark grey cargo pants, worn and frayed but still in good condition. Ori nods and swallows.

"Yes, that would be... that would be perfect, really. I'm just... I'm afraid I don't have much left to give you in exchange, but maybe you'd like some of the food I got? I have-"

"No, no. I've got all the food I want." Peter hands him the pants, and Ori folds them carefully before putting them on top of his backpack.

The man hasn't moved, and Ori can feel his eyes on him, heavy and unnerving.

"Well, then, I'll best-"

"You're almost pretty. I mean, I don't like men. But with your hair, and that young face... you're almost pretty enough to be a girl."

Ori's hands tighten on his backpack and he looks up, meeting the man's cold and calculating gaze. He almost begs, but he knows it won't do any good. He could just try to go, make a run for the door... yet the man is way stronger than he is, and Ori isn't sure he wouldn't hurt him. Even if the rest of the town people seem friendly enough, he can't be sure that they'd protect a stranger from one of their own.

And Dwalin needs these pants – not only the ones he has on are damaged, but they're filthy and bloody, and keeping them on could very well cause an infection.

So Ori slowly puts his pack on the floor, and he doesn't even start when the man puts his hands on his shoulders. He doesn't wince as he's pushed down on his knees. He doesn't close his eyes when the man opens his fly.

He doesn't react at all, and he lets his mind take him elsewhere.

OD-OD-OD-OD

Bilbo is impressed by everything that Ori has managed to get, and Thorin thanks him for the antibiotics before giving them to Dwalin. They have set camp a few miles away from the town, and Thorin has redone Dwalin's dressing – apparently he's pleased enough with the wound – before helping him in his new pants. They fit, at least.

Ori smiles at Bilbo and tries to be as enthusiastic about eating canned peaches as his friend is. In truth, he's feeling sick, his throat hurts and he wants nothing more than to lie down and forget. He manages to eat anyway, and sets his mat on the ground next to Dwalin's afterwards. He can't fall asleep, though, and it doesn't help that he can feel Dwalin watching him.

After a few minutes, he can't bear it anymore.

"What?" he snaps, and he knows that it's unfair, and he wants to take it back, but he can't, and all of a sudden he's feeling so, so tired.

"Shouldn't have let you go alone."

Ori bits his lip and looks away. There's no way Dwalin can know what happened, but the man is apparently intuitive enough to know that something's wrong with Ori. It pleases the young man, in a painful and twisted kind of way.

"Please" he whispers, and Dwalin must understand, because he raises an arm in a silent invitation, and Ori curls up against him, sighing with relief as Dwaling strong arm wraps itself around his back, the tattooed hand resting on his hip. Ori inhales, and Dwalin smells like sweat and dirt and blood. It's oddly comforting.

And for now, it's enough.


	12. Make my systems blow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long (and I'm not even going to talk about my other WIPs). I hope you'll like it! I'll try to do better for the next chapter, but I know better than to promise anything :/
> 
> Anyway, enjoy and please review?

One day becomes two, and a whole week. Dwalin still doesn't ask Ori about that day. Doesn't try to make him talk, or anything like that. For which Ori's grateful, really.

But Ori notices the way Dwalin always seem to follow him with his eyes. The way he's now walking – well, limping, really – next to Ori for the most part of the day. The way his big hand finds Ori's lower back to guide him this way or another often enough to make Ori blush. The way he lets Ori sleeps against his side every night after his watch, sometimes even raising his arm so that the younger man can rest his head on his strong shoulder.

Dwalin doesn't ask him anything about what happened. But he seems determined to keep a close eye on him anyway, and that makes Ori feel kind of warm. Cared for.

It's nice.

OD-OD-OD-OD

"Are you alright?"

Ori stills, his hands still full of the sand he and Bilbo are using to clean their plates today – there's no source of water where they're staying tonight, and Bilbo remembered reading about desert people using this method somewhere. It's surprisingly effective, Ori must admit.

"Yes, yes. Of course I am."

Bilbo shifts next to him, his eyes on the ground.

"Something happened, didn't it? Did someone hurt you?"

"Bilbo-"

"Shit. I'm so sorry. I should have gone-"

"Bilbo, stop. I'm not hurt. It's okay."

"But it's not, isn't it?"

Bilbo meets his eyes then, and Ori winces at the understanding he can see there. Bilbo opens his mouth before closing it just as quickly. He shakes his head, his face still tight with something akin to pain, and finally sighs.

"If you... if you ever want to talk about it-"

"I know. Thank you."

Ori smiles and squeezes Bilbo's shoulder, because whatever happens, he has the feeling that they share a bond that won't be torn. Their friendship means a lot to him, and he has the feeling that Bilbo might feel the same.

"Thorin says we're almost there. Maybe two weeks, if Dwalin can't walk better."

"Really?"

Bilbo nods, and Ori watches his hands, full of sands and bits of food. It's strangely unsettling to be so close to their goal. It's like Ori has been numbed by the monotony of their days – waking up, eat something, and then walk, walk, walk. At the end of the day, Dwalin and Thorin find a place to make camp, and they eat around the fire. Then there's the night, and the watches – Ori, then Dwalin, then Thorin, and finally Bilbo. And the sun comes up and they do it all over again.

And the thing is, it's not bad. Sure, Ori's feet would like to take a break. He would like to see the end of the road, like all of them. But... it's been nice to have people he can rely on. Friends.

It's been nice to have Dwalin next to him every night. Ori's not sure how he feels about finally reaching Canada and parting ways with the others.

Mostly he tries not to think about it.

OD-OD-OD-OD

"Okay, I think we've hit the jackpot. The house is empty, but the cellar isn't. The peole that lived here made their own preserves. There's jam and vegetables and sauces... Plus dozens of cans. Water bottles, too."

"Thorin-"

"No, Dwalin. We need to rest. You need to heal. We're slow, we're exposed, and it's dangerous. You know it. There's no sense in going on like that when we have another choice."

"It'll be only for a few days. Please."

And that does it. Ori feels the way Dwalin's body relaxes against him, a heavy sigh leaving his lips at Bilbo's soft plea. They're all exhausted, they're hungry – Dwalin hasn't been able to hunt and they have eaten almost everything that Ori had traded. They need this, and Dwalin knows it. The heavy arm around Ori's shoulder suddenly disappear and Ori stumbles a bit without Dwalin's weight to support.

"Yeah, okay. Safe enough?"

Thorin shrugs and nods to the house.

"The windows downstairs have bars, and the front door looks sturdy enough. Should be fine, Dwalin. We'll keep watch as usual tonight."

They make their way to the house quickly, and Thorin bars the door with an oak chest. Bilbo immediatly wanders off to the kitchen, making Dwalin rolls his eyes as he slowly makes his way accross the cosy-looking living-room. The furniture is a bit outdated and obviously well-worn, but it looks comfortable. There are two assorted couches around a old coffee-table that has still magazines and books stacked on it. Colorful carpets cover the dark wooden floor and Ori feels strangely overwhelmed. He hopes the owners of the house are safe and sound, wherever they might now be.

Dwalin has carefully lowered himself in one of the couch, and he lets his head fall back with a tired sigh. He looks thinner, Ori thinks. Hell, they probably all do. He resists the urge to squeeze the man's shoulder or to ask if he's okay, and he makes his way to the kitchen.

Bilbo is happily going through the cupboards, muttering excitedly to himself, and Thorin has begun to gather the food that's been stocked in the cellar.

"Ori, look at that! I'm thinking pasta tonight, it's nice and filing and it won't sit too heavily in Dwalin's stomatch. I doubt he would appreciate canned soup, however good it might be for him. There's flour, I'll try to make bread, and look at that!"

"Pancake mix?"

"Pancake mix! We don't have eggs but I'm sure I can manage something half-decent with that box of powdered milk."

"Calm down, Bilbo, you're going to have a stroke."

Bilbo glares at Thorin before turning to Ori once more.

"Want to give me a hand?"

"Actually I wanted to check the bathroom and see if there's anything for Dwalin, maybe more painkillers. And something to clean his wound properly."

"Good idea, Ori. I checked the upstairs rooms but I didn't think of that. By the way, there are three bedrooms up there, so we'll all be sleeping in a real bed tonight."

Thorin smiles and wraps his arms around Bilbo's waist, dropping a kiss on his curls.

"And there's a king-size bed in the master bedroom."

"Thorin!"

Thorin chuckles and Bilbo's face turns a deep shade of pink.

"Okay, I think I'll go now" Ori says with a smile. "And try to keep it down tonight!"

"Ori!"

Bilbo throws the pancake mix in his direction and Ori barely avoids it, laughing as he makes his way out of the kitchen.

There are no painkillers in the bathroom, but there is running water – cold, but still – and soap, and shampoo. Ori wastes no time in stripping down and jumping in the shower. The others will have time to do the same later, and honestly, there's no way he'll wait any longer now that he can finally be clean.

This is even more satisfying than he thought it would be.

OD-OD-OD-OD

His belly is full, he doesn't smell like a dead thing anymore, the mattress is soft under his body and still, Ori can't sleep. He's feeling restless and uneasy.

He knows that Thorin is downstairs, he knows that they're as safe as they can be, but his mind can't relax. Giving up, Ori just stands up and makes his way quietly into the dark hallway. The master bedroom's door is closed, but the second kid's room is slightly ajar. Ori doesn't let himself think about it and slips inside, trying not to bump into furniture or trip over the carpet.

"Can't sleep?"

Ori startles a little before relaxing.

"No. You?"

"Well, 'm awake, ain't I?"

"Right."

Ori clears his throat, shifting his feet awkwardly. He can see Dwalin's broad form under the blue sheet, and he feels the man's eyes on him.

"Well come on then."

Dwalin lifts the sheet and Ori doesn't even hesitate. Once lying in the dark next to Dwalin body, once he can feel his heat and his strength, Ori can feel his eyelids drop almost instantly, his body slowly unwinding and relaxing.

"How's your leg?" he manages to whisper, the words slurred and strangely loud in the quiet room.

There's a snort, and then Dwalin's hand brushes his under the cotton sheet.

"Go the fuck to sleep, Ori."

And that, that's even better than the shower.


	13. Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand she's updating. I know. Hope you enjoy it anyway... Some Dwori fluff, some (light) angst for our poor Ori. Let me know what you think!

The next two days pass much in the same way: Ori spends his days with Bilbo, trying to decide what food and supplies they're going to take with them when they hit the road again, and what they're going to cook for their next meal. Thorin and Dwalin stay mostly out of their way and Ori has a grand time cooking and laughing with a very happy Bilbo – apparently having a full belly makes him even more joyful and easy-going.

And during the night... well, Ori finds his way to Dwalin's bed every night after his watch. There are no words exchanged, but Dwalin seems to wait for him, and always helpfully raises his arm to let Ori cuddle against him. When Ori wakes up in the mornings, Dwalin's gone, and the covers are tightly tucked around his body – and Ori really tries not to think about Dwalin making sure he's warm and comfortable like that, and he mostly fails.

But not this morning. This morning, Ori wakes up pressed against Dwalin's warm body, and when he looks up he realizes that the man is awake. His eyes seem almost black in the dim room, and Ori swallows before whispering a trembling 'good morning'.

Dwalin doesn't answer, but his eyes don't leave Ori's face, seemingly searching for something. And when Ori makes to move away – and escape all the awkwardness – one of the man's big hands shots up and strong fingers curl around Ori's bicep. Dwalin's hold on his arm is light and gentle, but Ori feel rooted to the spot all the same.

"Dwalin?"

The man seems to hesitate, his eyes boring into Ori's with an intensity that makes the younger man's cheeks heat.

"Fuck it", Dwalin says under his breath, and then his lips are on Ori's.

There's actually a moment, a stupid tiny sliver of time, when Ori can't move. His still sleepy brain can't seem to proceed the fact that Dwalin is apparently kissing him, and his body doesn't react. At all.

Luckily for him, Dwalin doesn't seem troubled by Ori's lack of reaction. He chuckles against Ori's mouth, his hand moving from Ori's arm to the back of his neck, rough fingers tangling in the redhead's mussed hair.

"This alright?" he whispers, and Ori nods so hard that he feels kind of dizzy for a second.

Dwalin hums quietly and kisses him again, and this time Ori does his best to respond as best as he can. His brain kind of goes into overdrive, wondering what the hell is happening, and if he has not a terrible morning breath – God knows Dwalin has – and what the whole thing means, and fuck, is Dwalin expecting sex or something?

Before Ori can freak out too much, Dwalin breaks the kiss, pecking him slightly on the lips and then lying back against the pillows. His hand is now slowly stroking Ori's spine, and his eyes are studying the younger man's face again.

"Was kinda waiting for you to make the first move, but…"

Dwalin shrugs and Ori grins.

"I was taking too long?"

"Yeah."

"I wasn't sure if… you know. If you were interested in me that way." Dwalin raises an eyebrow and Ori flushes. "I… well… I have no experience in that kind of thing and I'm not… I know I'm not… strong like you or anything, and, well…"

"Bullshit. You're strong. Managed on your own for God knows how long." Dwalin's fingers reach Ori's neck, and he squeezes lightly. "You're brave and you're a good man. More than I can say 'bout myself. C'mon, 'm hungry."

Ori tries not to be his awkward self as he scrambles to follow Dwalin – who's unfairly graceful for someone of his size – and wills his mouth to stay shut lest he blurts out some of the questions that keep popping in his head.

Hopefully Bilbo and Thorin will be too absorbed with each other to notice anything.

OD-OD-OD-OD

Thorin has decided that they would leave the day after, so Ori and Bilbo finish packing what they'll be tacking with them – mostly food, a few medical supplies, and soft warm blankets they found in the attic. Dwalin walks in the back yard with Thorin, testing his leg and trying to find his balance without help. Thorin hovers anxiously nearby the whole time, and Ori is struck once more by how much the man cares about Dwalin and Bilbo.

"He'll be fine".

"Sorry, what?"

Bilbo smiles at him gently, before gesturing toward the window.

"Dwalin. He'll be fine. He's the toughest man I've ever seen. And Thorin won't let him hurt himself."

"I know. They're really close, aren't they?"

"Yes. They served together, but they've been friends since they were kids. Probably saved each other's lives a couple of times. I used to be jealous of Dwalin, before Thorin and I got together."

"Really?"

"Yes. I mean, I didn't think I could compete against him, you know? But it's never been like that between them. They're just… like brothers, in a way."

Ori turns around and looks outside, where Dwalin is trying to push Thorin's helping hand away while muttering some very colorful curses. Ori chuckles as Thorin only rolls his eyes, unfazed, and adjusts his grip on his friend's arm.

"Ori?"

"Yes?"

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

Ori hesitates. Bilbo is a good friend, and he knows Dwalin well, he could probably help him to sort things out. But the memory of their kisses is still so fresh, so vivid in his mind, and he wants to keep it to himself, at least for a while. It's such a new feeling, such a wonder that he selfishly wants to relive again and again before sharing it with anyone. These first kisses – his first kisses – are like a precious gift in this harsh world, and sharing them so soon seem somehow… cheap. As if talking about them would tarnish their beauty, sully their holiness. Ori looks up and shakes his head.

"No. No yet, I think."

And Bilbo, bless his soul, gently smiles and nods.

"That's okay. Want to give me a hand with those cans?"

Ori nods and gets to work, even if he's not sure he's of much help because he keeps on sneaking glances through the window and wastes way too much energy on trying not to get flustered, but Bilbo is kind enough not to mention it.

And Ori can't help but wonder where they stand now, Dwalin and him, and how things will be tonight, and if he can somehow keep himself from fucking it up.


	14. New world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffly fluff and - *warning* - some very mild smut. Yep. That's it. Hope you're all having fantastic holidays, and please let me know what you think!

As it is, Ori didn't have to worry so much about fucking things up. The rest of the day passes quickly enough, and they all collapse into the well-worn couches at the end of the day. They've loaded their bags with everything they could, and Thorin declares Dwalin well enough for them to leave the next morning. Bilbo bakes a last time and they gorges themselves on pasta with one of the jars of homemade tomato sauce and have cake for dessert – it turns out that apple sauce is a great substitute for eggs, and Ori has found dark chocolate chips in one of the cupboards.

Thorin and Bilbo are cuddling on one of the couches, with Bilbo looking ready to pass out in a food-induced coma and Thorin retelling stories of his and Dwalin's time in the military.

Ori is trying not to fidget too much in his spot on the opposite couch when Dwalin apparently has enough and manhandles him until he's tucked against the bigger man's broad side. Ori's face burns with embarrassment, but Thorin only pauses briefly in his story telling to raise a curious eyebrow and Bilbo grins like crazy. Dwalin grunts at Thorin, who resumes his story with a half-smile, and no one says anything about the elephant in the room, much to Ori's relief. Warm fingertips caress his upper arm lightly, and Ori relaxes a bit.

In fact he relaxes so much that he falls asleep on Dwalin, and wakes up some time later to find the room dark and the other two gone.

"Dwalin?"

"Yeah. Should go upstairs to sleep. I have the first watch."

"I could stay. If you want me to, I mean."

Dwalin snorts and bends his head, letting his lips brush against Ori's lightly before dragging thick fingers through his hair.

"Think I'd like that."

"Good" Ori happily answers before snuggling closer to Dwalin. "I'm really happy to have met you all, you know? I was really lucky that day."

"Right. Almost killed you."

"You didn't, though." Ori smiles and reaches out, slowly caressing Dwalin's stubble-covered cheek with his fingertips. "You ended up saving my life, in the end. All three of you."

Dwalin kisses him, almost too hard, and Ori smiles against his mouth.

Everything feels right, for once, and Ori feels good, at ease and confident. Dwalin's hands move against his sides until Ori gets the hint and moves to straddle his lap, grinning as Dwalin hums contentendly against the soft skin of his neck.

"Well, as happy as I am with this development, I think you'd be more comfortable upstairs. Better make good use of that bed. You don't know when you'll have another chance."

Ori almost falls off the couch at Thorin's amused voice, but Dwalin strong arms lock around his waist.

"Shut up, Thorin."

"Yeah, yeah. Off to bed, the two of you. And keep it down, will you?"

Ori's face is flaming and he nearly trips over the carpet in his haste to get away. He can hear Dwalin's deep voice muttering behind him as he gets to the stairs, but he doesn't turn to look at the two men. He hesitates briefly in front of the bedrooms' doors, but finally enters Dwalin's. He's pretty sure he's not being overly confident there, and he really wants to sleep with Dwalin anyway.

At least sleep, sleep. Not that he wouldn't be happy to do more, of course. Ori realizes he's blushing at his own thoughts and rolls his eyes at himself. He quickly takes off his jeans, socks and sweat-shirt and slips under the covers. He doesn't know what Dwalin is expecting, and if he'll be able to do whatever it is the man will want, but he'll try his hardest… pun non intended. He's too nervous to be aroused anyway.

"Ori? Don't mind Thorin, he's just a nosy asshole."

Dwalin crosses the room and removes his clothes quickly, until he's down to his boxers – the room is dark, but Ori can see enough of Dwalin's strong body, the lines of his shoulders, the swell of his biceps, the hair on his chest and belly, and the muscles of his legs. He hopes he's not too obvious in his shameless ogling.

It's over way too soon, and Dwalin lies down next to him with a tired sigh. He turns on his side then, facing Ori, and grins.

"You okay?"

"Yes."

Dwalin's grin turn wicked then, and suddenly he's kissing Ori again, and slipping a warm hand under his shirt. Ori shivers and tries to decide where to safely put his hands when Dwalin's rough thumb brushes his nipple.

He mewls.

He would feel ashamed about the sound if Dwalin didn't seem to like it so much, licking into Ori's mouth with even more ardor. Dwalin moves until he's half lying on Ori, his thick thigh finding its way between Ori's legs.

Ori stiffens slightly, both at the feel of Dwalin's unmistakable arousal against his hip and at the sensation of being trapped under the man's weight. Ori can't escape, he can't fight the man if he needs to, and he has no idea what he's doing, and God, this was a terrible idea.

"Hey. Look at me. Ori, look at me. There. Too much?"

"Yes. No, I mean. I don't know. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Come here."

Dwalin flips them over and manhandles Ori until he's straddling him again.

"Better?" Ori nods, feeling himself flushing again. "We could just sleep if you want."

"No, I want… I just… I don't know how. I've never done this before." Ori sighs and leans down, wondering if he should tell Dwalin everything. He wants to, somehow. The man is looking at him, and his expression is calm and honest. "I've just… done things. To… to eat, once. And someone made me, another time. I could have escaped, I guess, but I needed what the man had. It was just, you know. With my mouth, both times. I'm not sure if I can do that again."

"Don't have to do anything."

Ori wants to cry all of sudden.

"I can try, I just-"

"Darlin', look at me. 'M not sayin' I don't want you. It's kind of obvious I do. Just tell me if something's too much, alright? Anytime, I swear I'll stop. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. What do you want?"

"I… I don't know." Ori doesn't know, but he lets his lips touch Dwalin's anyway. "Can you kiss me again?"

"Anything you want."

It's easy to lose himself in the feel of Dwalin's lips and tongue, after that. To let himself go, and surrender to his body's reactions to the man's touch, to the way his strong fingers caress his thighs, his back, the curve of his ass. It's easy to move, then, to make his hips meet Dwalin's, to let his cock drag against the other man's. It's easy to let go, to moan his release into his lover's mouth and to swallow the answering groan.

It's easy to chuckle, breathless and happy, and to kiss Dwalin again. It's easy to take off his shirt to clean them both as best as he can, and to find his place against Dwalin's sides as the sweat is cooling on their bodies.

It's easy to hide his tears – tears of joy, of disbelief, of happiness – against the man's shoulder and easy to accept the grounding hand on his neck.

It's easy, really.

OD-OD-OD-OD

Morning finds Ori at the bedroom's window, just as the sun rises. He can hear Dwalin stirring in the bed behind him, but he doesn't want to tear his eyes away from the beautiful dawn outside.

Dwalin comes to him and wraps his arms around him from behind, kissing his shoulder lightly.

They don't speak, but maybe they don't need to.

The world is still a fucked up place, and he might still not survive their trip to Canada. But it feels like a new chapter of his life, like a new start.

It feels like hope, and it's a damn good feeling.


	15. Raise your flag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, er, this happened.
> 
> Try not to hate me too much. I have no control over my muse. And, review, pretty please?

The last two weeks have been long and uneventful. Not that Ori particularly like the kind of events that usually happen to him, but, really, it’s been boring. And it’s raining.

Apparently they’re somewhere east from Seattle – which explains the rain – and not as far along as they should have been. They lost time with Dwalin’s injury and then spent almost three days not moving at all, after all.

So it means they have to walk more than usual each day if they want to reach the border anytime soon, but with the rain everything seems more difficult – it’s annoying to walk in drenched clothes and shoes, and the path dissolves in sticky mud under their shoes, the heavy weight of it making it even harder to go on.

It’s like the world is conspiring against them. At the same time, Ori doesn’t want the road to end. Part of him simply doesn’t want to finally discover if the safe heaven is real – because, what if it isn’t? What, then? But more than that, he dreads to think of leaving his companions. He dreads the day when he’ll have to go on on his own.

Nothing has prepared him to have friends, or to fall in love. He’s never expected to have this much, and it makes it even harder to lose it. Not that he regrets any of it. Bilbo’s easy friendship and Thorin’s trust mean more to him than he has words for.

And Dwalin. Well. Dwalin is a different matter entirely. They’ve been quite tame after leaving the house. No other choice really, when you sleep in the wild with two other people. Not to mention they’re so drenched and exhausted most of the time that the last thing on their minds is to get frisky under the dubious cover of their bedrolls. They just collapse after eating and Dwalin wraps himself around Ori until his watch. He has no idea what exactly they are. If they are something at all.

Still, it’s nice, endless rain and painful blisters aside.

It’s still loads better than everything he’s known this past few years, and Ori doesn’t want to lose any of it.

OD-OD-OD-OD

“Ori. Ori.”

Someone’s whispering in his ear, and Ori sleepily tries to slap them away.

“Ori, stop that. Get up.”

“Go away.”

“Nope.”

Ori lifts a reluctant eyelid enough to see Bilbo grinning widely at him. How the man can be that happy so early is beyond him – Ori is not a morning person and cannot understand those who are.

“What d’you want?”

“Come on, I made coffee, Dwalin’s gone hunting so there’s a chance we get something good to eat today, and Thorin’s sure we’re really close to the border now. Plus, it has stopped raining.”

Ori sits up so fast that his head is spinning for a few seconds.

“What didn’t you start with that? Oh God, there’s sun. Actual sun.”

Bilbo chuckles and hands him a steaming cup of coffee. Bilbo sits down next to him and looks up to the marvellously blue sky, and even that early, Ori manages to smile.

“Will you stay with us then?”

“What?”

“After we cross the border. Whatever we find on the other side, I think you should stay with us. At least for a little while, you know, get us all settled and see how it’s going. I’d feel better.”

“I don’t want to impose” Ori says carefully – because even if he feels like they’re all friends, even if he doesn’t really think any of them would be glad to see him gone, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Life isn’t a fairy tale, and happy endings pretty much disappeared when their world went to shit.

“Please. You’re our friend. And I don’t think Dwalin-“

“No, don’t – I mean… I’m aware that Dwalin probably just sees me as convenient, and I don’t want him to think he owes me anything when we get there.”

Bilbo’s eyebrows do a complicated thing that he’s probably picked up from Thorin before he shakes his head with a sigh.

“God, you’re such an idiot. And it doesn’t even matter what’s between you and Dwalin, you’re coming with us.” Bilbo pokes him in the shoulder with his index finger none too gently and frowns. “We don’t know how it will be, we don’t know if we can trust them or anything. I don’t want you to go on your way until we’re at least sure that it’s safe.”

Ori smiles, carefully removing Bilbo’s finger from his abused shoulder.

“Is that an order?”

Bilbo rolls his eyes and downs his coffee.

“Get up, smart ass, and help me pack up. Dwalin should be back soon and Thorin wants us to get an early start.”

“Yes, yes. I’m up.”

Ori helps Bilbo and tries to ignore the maniac gleam in Thorin’s eyes that means he’s planning to make them walk an insane amount of miles today.

There’s sun, Ori’s almost dry, and his friend just asked to stay with them. Nothing can dampen his mood today.

OD-OD-OD-OD

So, okay, maybe _this_ can dampen his mood.

“Drop your weapons! Now!”

Dwalin and Thorin exchange a quick look and put their guns on the ground, slowly. Bilbo squeezes Ori’s hand so hard that it’s painful, his gaze fixed on the ground like he doesn’t want to see what’s happening.

The men in fatigues don’t relax their stances, and Ori begins to think that the whole thing isn’t maybe such a good idea after all. The faded flag flaps in the wind behind the soldiers, and the sound is like a sentence.


	16. Sun hasn't died

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can not apologize enough for the terrible delay. Real life got me hard. I hope you forgive me... and that you like this.

Ori wakes up with a shout, sweat making his threadbare shirt and the sheets under him damp and warm. He lays there, breathing heavily, trying to blink the tears away, trying to erase that last memory of Dori, pale and unmoving, and dead.

"Hey… 's alright. Shh. Come 'ere."

Ori doesn't fight the strong arms suddenly around him, and when Dwalin has turned him around and tucked him against his chest, he even allows himself a muffled sob. He doesn't say 'sorry', like he used to, because Dwalin would only roll his eyes and scoff and mutter about Ori being stupid and annoying, and really, it's no use at all. So he stays silent. Dwalin breathes loudly under him, obviously still half-asleep, warm and safe. Ori presses a kiss against the man's skin, and Dwalin hums, a soft and satisfied sound that makes Ori smile through his tears.

Ori closes his eyes again and tries to go back to sleep, silently thanking God or Fate or whatever it was that made him try to steal from Bilbo that day.

OD-OD-OD-OD

Three weeks earlier.

The men that guide them inside a small house are stern and silent, but they don't seem really menacing or dangerous to Ori. Their mismatched military-like outfits are well-worn but clean, and they all look like they have been eating regularly. This might not be as bad as he first thought.

"Alright" the oldest one says. "Get in. We can't stay out there to talk, too dangerous." He raises a hand as Thorin opens his mouth – no doubt to protest that they won't follow anyone anywhere. "We won't do you any harm. I suppose you came here for a reason. We just want to have a chat. If what we offer isn't to your taste, you'll be free to go."

Ori is glad to hear Bilbo answer before Thorin can manage to make the man lose his cool, or, God forbid, before Dwalin can grunt anything offensive.

"That seems fair. And I'll be glad to sit down."

Bilbo very pointedly looks at Thorin, and Ori is fairly sure the man who seems to be the team's leader is struggling to hide a smile. The room they're ushered in is small, but it smells like coffee – no, not coffee, rather an ersatz, probably chicory – and it's rather clean. Only the leader and one other man get in with them. The man, whose blonde hair is tied up on his neck, rests his back on the door, seemingly at ease but very obviously blocking the only exit. Shit. The leader motions for them to sit around the table, gathering glasses and a glass bottle of water.

"Alright. As you certainly know, you have reached the Canadian border." The man scratches his bald head, shrugging with one shoulder. "Sorry. I never know how to say those things. Anyway. I suppose you want to cross the border. Am I right?"

"Seems obvious" Dwalin rasps beside Ori, making him wince. The leader only smiles, nodding knowingly.

"My name is Rick. I'm the captain of the team responsible for this checkpoint." The man smiles and nods to Thorin and Dwalin. "I think you served, once? Yeah. Can't take the soldier out of the man. We welcome everyone here."

"But?" softly asks Bilbo.

"But, there are rules. You can't take your weapons. You will have to leave them to us. You'll agree to see one of our doctor for a physical. And you will agree to follow our laws, and to work for the community of the town you settle in. We basically need every kind of people with every kind of skills, so no worry there. They'll find something that suit you. I think the two of you might see your weapons soon again," Rick adds with a smile. "We need men to patrol the border. Not everyone has good intentions, as you certainly know. The community will provide you a suitable home and meet your basic needs: food, clothes, that kind of thing, in exchange for your work. We will not hesitate to send you back the way you came from if you do anything to hurt any of our people. We have lots of women with children that found a safe place here. We have a lot of orphans as well. We will not tolerate anything to happen to them, am I clear?"

Thorin seems angered by the suggestion, but he nods nevertheless, his hand on Bilbo's shoulder.

"These are the rules. If you accept them, I will take your weapons, and Gary here will take you to the doc and explains things further." Ori looks up and sees the blonde man at the door smile gently at him. "If not, you're free to go. We will escort you back to the wall."

Dwalin shifts beside him and Ori meets his eyes. He seems to ask a question, and Ori can only nod.

"We'll stay" Dwalin grunts out, and even Thorin seems surprised to hear it.

And so they stay.

OD-OD-OD-OD

It's not easy. Nothing ever is in this world.

The physical isn't as bad as Ori feared. The old doctor is half-deaf but he's kind and gives Ori a pat on the head when it's over, muttering that he'll be fine with a few good meals in his belly. They're actually given a house, with dark shutters and an old white fence. It's nice and clean and Bilbo can't stop grinning as he opens every door. Dwalin puts Ori's bag next to his own tattered backpack in a nice bedroom with a pale wooden floor and no one says anything about it.

The people are nice and welcoming. It seems an unspoken rule that no one asks about your past here, for which Ori is grateful. Thorin and Dwalin end up patrolling the borders as predicted, and Bilbo quickly finds his place at the local bakery. The old woman here makes only bread, but with Bilbo's help they start offering pastries and brioche and all kind of cookies for the school's children.

And the school, that's where Ori works. He likes it. He likes the kids – a few of them are quiet, too quiet, but he hopes they'll get better as time goes by – and he likes the comforting routine of teaching, of getting up in the mornings knowing where he'll go and what he'll do.

He likes coming home as well. Likes the messy house and its big windows, likes the evening playing cards by the candle lights, likes the nights curled up next to Dwalin, cocooned in warmth and safety. He likes the moments where they're one as well, like there's nothing else but their love and the sound of their breathing, nothing but the pure devotion in Dwalin's eyes and the careful way his hands touch Ori, nothing but their mouths and bodies meeting.

He still wonders about Nori, and sometimes he daydreams about seeing his brother again. Maybe one day he will.

After all, a few months ago he was hungry, alone and desperate. And now he's safe, he's happy, he's loved. So that must mean something. There's hope here, and there's hope in his heart as well.

Because tomorrow he'll wake up with the sun, and Dwalin will probably grumble next to him in annoyance. But then he'll open his eyes and see Ori, and he'll smile, small and private, just for Ori, his eyes crinkling at the corners, like he can't believe their chance either, like he's so happy he could die.

And if that isn't a fucking miracle after what they've been through, Ori doesn't know what is.


End file.
